


Stiles' Guide to Surviving a Zombie Apocolypse

by Yaoiteen1001



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, M/M, No Hale Fire, Zombie Survival Guide - Freeform, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:56:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaoiteen1001/pseuds/Yaoiteen1001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Unbeta'd... All mistakes are mine.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd... All mistakes are mine.

It wasn't always like this...

The world was once a beautiful planet, full of life. The earth flourished with plants and people, equal in diversity and uniqueness. Then came the sickness.

It started as the common flu, infecting every 1 in 5000. It spread quickly over the continents, causing hospitals to fill rapidly. It took four months for everyone to rid themselves of the disease, but if came back, hitting harder than if did before. Scientists weren't able to find out what caused the flu to become so violent and infectious, but they guessed it was pollution mixed with other various diseases. The first person to get sick again was a man named Tom Greenberg. It started as a sore throat, runny nose and the common cough. But as the week progressed, he started to bleed from his pores and ears and nose.

He ended bed bound by the end of the week, the feeling in his legs gone along with his sight. It was slowly tearing up his insides, burning his skin and melting his brain. It took another week before he died, laying in bed, blood staining the sheets he laid between. His wife had been crying over his body when he attacked her, clamping onto her arm with inhuman force. She screamed in terror and pain, unsure of what to do. She tried getting away, but this caused him to tear strips of flesh from her arm, splattering the walls with blood. His wife jammed her palm into his cheek, tearing the flesh but catching the bone and pushing him away. She ripped her arm away from his grasp and managed to get out the door before he could catch up. His wife slid down the door, listening to her husband snarl on the other side of the door out of hunger.

She soon died laying against the door, her arm bleeding out onto the floor. She opened her eyes within minutes afterward, pupils dilated and the whites bloodshot and gray. The disease spread throughout their house. Then to the neighborhood, infecting half the country. It managed to get across sea when an infected person got aboard a plane, bringing it down just before it was supposed to land.

 

. o O 0 O o .

It has been four years...

Four years since the Outbreak...

Stiles managed to survive the initial Outbreak, fighting off the zombies from his house with a bat. When his weapons dwindled, he met up with his friends Scott, Allison, Lydia, Isaac, Ethan, Aiden and Danny. Erica and Boyd were off on a different run.

Today is Stiles' twenty first birthday. They entered the restaurant, taking in the expensive atmosphere. It was empty, the tables still standing, but the chairs were knocked over or pushed against the walls. The floor and table clothes were splattered with blood, giving it an eerie feeling. Stiles smiled at it. Years ago he would've been horrified, scared even. But now, now he likes the tranquility of the restaurant, and even the blood can't wreck that. He picked the least bloody table, and pulled up several chairs. Scott and Isaac chained the doors shut while Allison checked all the exits. Lydia was in the kitchen shuffling through the canned goods. Ethan, Aiden and Danny were grabbing silverware and plates that weren't soiled by people innards.

The walls had curtains draped over them, and were nailed to the walls at parts to give it a fancy look. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling, clinking lightly as it swayed from the movement below. Scott flipped a switch and the chandelier lit up, casting light into the places they could see from their flashlights. "And let there be light!" Scott said, as if he fixed the chandelier from within the walls. Stiles smirked at him, turning back to the table, straightening the table cloth. Danny and Ethan set the table while Lydia brought out what she was able to cook. The meat was bad, of course, from being out of the fridge and the fact that the infection could've gotten to it from it being exposed. Everyone sat down, smiling at their masterpiece.

Dinner happened to be cranberries, with carrying soups and steamed vegetables, with a bowl of previously canned fruits. They let Stiles eat first, but he only took a small portion of each food, making sure there was enough for everyone else. "Oh, wait!" Lydia said jus before anybody was able to take a bite. "I think I know what we need!"

"What's that?" Stiles wondered aloud. But all he got in response was Lydia running back into the kitchen. He could here the clinking of glasses before she came out of the kitchen, one hand holding a tray of glasses and the other behind her back. She set the tray down on the table and passed everyone a glass. She presented them with a scotch.

"It is your twenty first isn't it," she said with a devilish smile on her face. She poured them about half of the small glasses so that they would get intoxicated beyond the point of not being able to defend themselves.

"Aww, thanks!" Stiles beamed, totally forgetting. He could've drinker whenever he wanted, but he waited for his twenty first because he knew it would've been what his mom wanted.

Once everyone had a drink, they raised their glasses, "To survival," Stiles said.

"To survival," they all repeated. Stiles drank his glass in one swallow, placing the glass back on the tables. He gulped down the soup, not taking time to enjoy it because it was something he had everyday. But when he bit into the cranberries, he lingered, wanting to savor the taste. He closed his eyes in pure ecstasy. He liked the sweet yet tangy taste of the cranberries and the way it practically melted in his mouth. When he opened his eyes, he saw that everyone was staring.

"What?" he said, almost spitting the cranberry out.

They all looked away, visibly stifling a laugh. He rolled his eyes, digging into the rest of his cranberries.

When Stiles was halfway through his fruit, he heard a bang. It rang throughout the restaurant and everyone else tensed, then looked around, trying to find the source. Stiles had trained himself not to be afraid, because he realized the hard way that fear did nothing but render you defenseless. He had figured out, actually, that most emotions did that. Love, anger, happiness... They all distracted you from defeating the zombies. They left you on the ground broken or bitten or both. You couldn't get anywhere feeling emotional in a time when you need to be ready to fight and kill at any moment.

Stiles found the source of the noise: the front doors. Zombies were pushing on the doors. The chain didn't give way, but the doors were bending back, making bigger gaps into the restaurant, flooding it with sunlight. They all jumped out of their seats at the same time, grabbing their weapons and forming a circle around the table. Stiles switched into attack mode. He focused on the zombies, the way each individual one moved and snarled at the smell of fresh meat just a few feet away. Their fun was over, and they knew it wouldn't last, but that as quick even for zombies.

The first zombie to break into the restaurant was a slim woman in a tattered gray business suit. Half her jaw was torn away, revealing shifting flesh and grinding bones. Her left eye sat loosely in its socket, threatening to pop out at any moment. One of her legs were broken, so she limped towards them, but she limped fast since the pain didn't bother zombies. She snarled and grabbed at them as she got closer, a crazed look in her dead eyes. Scott was the closest so he picked up his lacrosse stick (Stiles never figured out why he chose a lacrosse stick to fight with) and swung at the zombie. It snagged her chin and dragged her head upwards within seconds. It probably snapped her neck, but she just rolled her head down to look at Scott. He struck again, hitting her across the face with all his force. She hit the ground in no time.

She layed there, unmoving. Not one of them moved, and when she did, they were ready. Scott lifted the opposite end of his lacrosse stick, which he had fastened a knife to, and jabbed it into her head, causing her eye to pop of her head and land on the ground. Her body shuddered for a few seconds before going limp. Scott pulled out his lacrosse stick with a sickening grinding sound. Blood spewed out of the wound once the knife was out, but died down after a few seconds. "One down, jus a lot more to go," Scott said, looking back to the door which was holding back the other zombies, surprisingly.

"You guys do realize we could've gone out the back exit by now," Lydia said from across the circle.

"There's a back exit?" Danny hissed. Stiles turned to look at Lydia.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Let's go everyone," Stiles said, running behind Lydia towards the exit. It happened to be behind the kitchen, hidden from view by a large holding rack. It brought them to another abandoned street that had a few zombies lazily walking along it. The group slowed down and, calmly, jogged down the street. They had their weapons at the ready, waiting... expecting an attack. But it didn't come. They found their jeep with minutes and started up, calling the attention of the zombies close.

They had found a camp about three months ago at the Jackson manner. Jackson's parents had been killed by the zombies so it was just him in the big house, and he offered to let them stay, amazingly. Scott's mom managed to survive with him, using hospital equipment to fight her way to Scott. Allison's dad easily survived because had had military background, but her mom was killed while they were trying to secure the house. Danny's parents disappeared, and Danny looked for months, but never found them. He presumed them dead. Ethan and Aiden didn't talk about their parents. Stiles mother was stuck at home when the zombies attacked the house. She managed to hold them off till Stiles got there, but she got bit right as he reached her. He was forced to kill her, not wanting her memory to be soiled by the zombie that would soon boil to the top.

They all found there way to the manner, securing the security gate behind them. The security gates were planted a few foot into the ground so they held amazingly against the attacking zombies. They drove back to the manner, loosing a zombie crowd about halfway there. They stopped by the high school to pick up materials... and that's when things went to shit.

They entered through the south entrance, descending the stairs into the hall, lockers on either side. They could hear the distant moans of zombies shuffling around lazily. Stiles lead the group. He switched out his normal bat for one that had nails in the end. He found it ten times more effective in high pressure situations, and the last time they came here, they were all nearly killed.

They managed to get to the chemistry room before they heard a clinking sound. Stiles stopped, focusing on the direction of the noise. It had come from behind a lab table that sat a little higher than the others. Stiles gripped his bat till his knuckles flushed white. He went up to the table, and whipped behind it finding... a girl his age. She had black hair tied up in a ponytail. She looked afraid, but alert, ready to attack at any moment, right when Stiles stepped behind the table, she bolted up, holding a machete high above her head. She was ready to attack, a wild look in her eye, but she realized Stiles wasn't a zombie just in time.

"Oh thank god! We've been looking for someone for ages. We've been all alone," the girl said, her shoulder sagging.

Stiles looked around before asking, "We've?"

"My older brother and sister, and uncle... They're off searching the rest of the school, left me to search the chemistry lab." Stiles dropped his bat to his side and went back to the table he was collecting from.

"Hey Lydia, can you come see which chemicals would be good for a Molotov?" Stiles asked, turning back to Lydia who was searching through a supply closet.

"Sure," she said. The girl from behind the table was at Stiles side in seconds.

"We can help, I swear... please, let us come with, please!" she pleaded, clasping her hands together and shaking them slightly. As much as Stiles told himself that adding to their group was an unwise decision, his heart took over.

"Fine, but if you hold us back, don't expect mercy," Stiles said with a bit of venom in his voice. She winced as he said his last words, but looked happy nonetheless. Lydia joined the two at the table gathering the several chemicals to make the Molotov.

The girl, Stiles learned her name was Cora, showed them to the cafeteria where her older sister was. She had long black hair that tumbled down her shoulders as she shoved canned goods and food in bags into her duffel. She turned on her heels as soon as she heard the group come within close proximity, her eyes ready and alert. She sighed but kept her eyes trained on Stiles.

"Cora, who are these people?" the woman- she seemed older than Stiles, so he decided she wasn't really a girl- said, looking from Stiles to Cora.

"They have a larger group and offered to take us in."

"We don't need it," the woman hissed, looking pointedly at Cora.

"Yes we do... We had to amputate Peters arm just the other day because there were too many zombies... We need help," Cora pleaded with her sister.

"Ugh... I hate how persuasive you are. Dammit!" She slung the duffel over her shoulder and picked up a shotgun. Stiles picked up his bat. "Whoa, I'm not gonna shoot, I need protection too, you know." The group followed the two girls to the last destination which was the gym. It was full of possible weapons...

They made their way towards the back of the gym where the supple closet was. They could hear rummaging around when they were just outside the doors, they could tell that whoever was in there was trying to be quiet.

"Der!" Laura yelled into the closet. From behind a shelf that held balls of all kinds came a man a few years older than Stiles. He had black hair just like Laura and Cora. His eyes were a dull green, but became sharper when he stepped Into the light. You could tell he worked out because the small piece of fabric he called a tee shirt clung to his skin sculpting every muscle. He wore tight denim jeans and sneakers that only he seemed to be able to pull off. He came to Laura, a look of interest and caution in his eyes.

"Uh... Laura, who're these people?" Derek asked.

"They're another group that was scavenging in the school... They said they'd take us in."

"Oh... Uh... I'm Derek Hale," he replied, stretching his hand out towards Stiles. He shook it firmly.

"Stiles Stilinski," Stiles replied, giving a faint smile.

"Peter!" Derek yelled into the closet.

"This is our uncle Peter," Laura said as an older man stepped into view. He had brown hair and close dropped shave. He was built and in shape like the others.

"I, uh, heard what was going on, so you don't need to repeat yourselves," Peter said, smiling widely. Now a group of twelve, they made their way towards the exit. Just twenty feet from the door, Stiles stopped, hearing a groan that was close. It was followed be several moans and snarls, and shuffled footsteps.

"Shit," Stiles mumbled, holding up his spiked bat. The others followed suit, picking up their weapons and stepping carefully towards the exit, trying not to make a sound. Everyone was on red alert, senses and all. A few feet from the door, he felt a hand on his side, shoving him into a closed locker. Right as someone had pushed him, a zombie burst out of a door that Stiles was right in front of, but now Derek was. His weapon of choice was a samurai sword that looked old and used, but still sharp and effective. He swung his sword, slicing through the zombies neck just above the shoulders. It's head thumped to the floor, leaving a splatter of blood across the tile.

"How did you..." Stiles faltered, wondering how Derek knew a zombie was behind the door.

"Instinct," Derek shrugged his shoulders, "are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Better than what I would've been if that Muncher would've gotten me."

"Good," Derek replied, now leading the group. Stiles wasn't necessarily happy with him leading the group, but he kind of liked the view of Derek he had from walking behind him. Derek had broad shoulders and rippling muscles, all of which his shirt did nothing to hide. His jeans sculpted his ass perfectly, making it look perfect no matter which way he stood or walked. Derek's legs looked muscled as well in his jeans that were probably a size or two smaller than they should be. Stiles wished he could've just...

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind and focused on the path ahead. If he started thinking those thoughts, then they led to feelings, and feelings were something that Stiles worked so hard on to not have. He couldn't fail now, not in a time of crisis.

Now that they knew zombies were behind quite a few closed doors, they expected the zombies that started to show out of every door, which was only three, but each room had several zombies within. Derek had taken down the first few zombies, but there were too many for him to kill them all. So Stiles jumped in, swinging his bat and hitting a zombie right in the head, knocking her to the ground. He pulled his bag out with a tug and flick of the wrist. After having it for a year he had become well trained in getting it out. When he pulled it out, blood gushed from the zombie. He stomped her skull in, and moved onto the next.

Within no time, everyone in the group was fighting a zombie. Stiles came to a monstrously sized zombie. It was almost seven feet tall and all muscle. Half it's face was missing which made it more menacing as it snarled at Stiles flinging spit across the hall. Stiles smiled at the challenge and swung his bat hitting the zombie in the shoulder. Stiles smile faded and the zombie looked pissed. It started after him, chasing him down the hall away from the group. After turning a corner he stopped and waited. The zombie tumbled around the corner and ran at him at an alarmingly high speed.

Stiles waited till the zombie was a few feet away, then slid between its widely arched legs. He bolted to his feet then jumped onto its back, trying to pry his bat from its shoulder, but it was tightly wound in muscle and blood. He took out his other bag and hit the zombie in the head while it was struggling to grab him. It backed into a locker, knocking the wind out of him. He dropped off its back, sliding down the locker. He narrowly avoided its jaws by ducking to the side. It's head hit the locker, making it shake its head dazedly.

Stiles picked up his bat and jumped, breaking the bat over its head. The hit caused its skull to crack, but nothing fatal. It swung it's muscled arm, knocking him into the locker, probably denting it. Stiles felt light headed and close to puking. The zombie loomed over him, opening and closing its mouth.

In one second it was standing over him and the next it was flying across the hall. In front of him, he found Derek who was crouched like a wolf, nails elongated into claws. He had huge sideburns down the sides of his face and a permanent frown. His eyes blazed red, which slowly receded into his pupil, leaving his eyes the normal brown. The last thing he remembers before falling unconscious was Derek turning back to his normal self and reaching out his arms.

 

. o O 0 O o .

Stiles woke with a start, jolting up. He looked around, trying to gather his bearings. He was in a bed that was lain with fancy sheets and pillows. Light streamed in through the window, casting a yellow haze over the room. He was back at the Whittemore manor, in his room. The back of his head throbbed dully, giving him a tiny headache. He threw the sheets off and found himself in just boxers, not having noticed, or cared, before. He found an old pair of jeans and a plaid shirt at the end of the bed.

Pulling the shirt over his stomach, Stiles stepped into the kitchen, seeing everyone busying themselves. Danny and Ethan were making eggs, while Isaac was on toast duty. Jackson was making bacon while  
Scott and Allison set the table. Lydia was working on little breakfast pastries with Aiden at her side, which caused some sideways glares at them from Jackson. Stiles was sure the others we're finding rooms and unpacking. Derek came down the stairs, shirtless and wearing pajama pants that hung low on his hips. Stiles could hear Danny and Ethan choke a little. Little gasps escaped Allison and Lydia. The corner of his lips pulled a little into a smile as a blush creeped up from his chest, into his ears. Lydia giggled a little at that.

Stiles grabbed Derek's hand and leaned into to whisper to him, "Can I talk to you real quick?"

"Uh, sure," he replied, following Stiles down the hall into a huge room that was mostly glass. Stiles closed the door behind them.

"Are you a werewolf?" Stiles asked, bluntly.

Derek's eyes went wide. "Yeah, my whole family is," he said, deciding not to dance around the question.

"Do you guys have it under control?" Stiles asked, his tone serious and face straight.

"Yeah, we have trained ourselves since birth," Derek said, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Awesome dude! Let's go eat!" Stiles expression totally changed. He left Derek in the room to go to the kitchen. Derek stood there, wondering if that actually happened. Derek walked back to the kitchen to find everyone sitting down at a table which had food and delicacies in the center.

Derek sat down just as Cora, Laura and Peter came downstairs, probably enchanted by the smell of the food. They served themselves up.

"So, Derek, are you guys from Beacon Hills?" Lydia asked.

After swelling a mouthful of eggs, he replied, "Yeah, we used to live up on the preserve at the edge of town."

"So, is this all of your family, I thought you had more?" Allison asked.

"I... They turned and we were forced to kill them," Derek replied, finding interest in kicking around his food with his fork. They table ate in silence till the front door opened, calling everyone's attention. Stiles dad, Scott's mom, and Allison's dad all came in, talking among themselves. They I stopped when they saw the others at the table.

"Newcomers?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dad, this is Derek, Cora, Laura, and Peter Hale," Stiles said, while pointing to the respective person. His dad lowered his eyes, taking a loud gulp.

"Hale's. I thought you were dead from the fire?" John said.

"No," Peter replied.

"My wife was a friend of the family," John said, giving a faint smile before taking the stairs two at a time.

"This is Scott's mom, Melissa," Stiles said, gesturing towards her, "and this is Allison's dad, Chris Argent."

Stiles could feel the tension hit almost immediately. Derek gulped loudly. Cora let out a low growl. Peter and Laura stood up, each glaring at Chris.

"Wha-what's wrong?" Stiles stumbled over his words.

"Argent," Derek growled. Everyone was on there feet, scared looks plastered to their faces. Chris didn't look scared, but more... curious. Laura and Cora both grab Derek's shoulders and lead him to his room. Peter studied Chris intensely.

"Are you related to Kate Argent?" Peter asked.

"Yes, but..." was all Chris was able to get out before Peter was walking up the stairs, probably to Derek.

Happy birthday me, Stiles thought.

 

. o O 0 O o .

Derek lost him family right after the Outbreak had started. The whole house had turned with the exception of the four, and he had to torch them to make sure none of them got out and killed anyone else. Human zombies were lethal enough, he didn't want to find out what a werewolf zombie would be like. Peter had gotten bit and they cut his arm off just in time to save him, but he didn't give up without a fight. Peter wanted his arm, even if it meant he'd turn with it.

After they chopped it off, he wouldn't move, or speak for that matter, for several weeks, making it very hard for them to protect themselves. He finally came around when a full moon had come. He had wolfed out, moving from his spot, attacking the other three. They managed to get him to calm down and from then on, Peter carried with him an anger for Derek, but an anger for the zombies as well for what they had done.

They had jumped from town to town making their way around the country, finally circling back to Beacon Hills. It was a hard decision but they had nowhere else to go. The whole country was getting swept away by the disease.

And to top it all off, hearing the name Argent made Derek's anger boil up to the surface. He couldn't help it. He managed to hold himself back from attacking, knowing it already looked bad having him wolf out and scare everybody.

Cora and Laura managed to pin him to the bed by his arms, Derek struggling under their hold so that he could avenge his family.

"Stop it Derek! He might be completely different from her! He might not even know her... you have to hear his side of the story!" Laura shouted over his growls and snarls. He thrashed for a few more seconds before relaxing, his face turning back to normal. Derek's red eyes receded leaving his green eyes in there place.

"Fine," he grumbled, looking a little like grumpy cat.

 

. o O 0 O o .

After the four wolves dragged Derek up the stairs, Stiles turned back to the table. He saw the scared look on all their faces.

Jackson was the first to speak. "You didn't tell us they were wolves!" he practically spat.

"So what if they are?" Stiles retorted, not really liking where this was going.

"They could bite any one of us!"

"They're born wolves, they've been able to control it," Stiles said.

"Apparently not," he scoffed.

"They've just hit a sore subject," came a voice from down the hall. Everyone turned to look, including the parents. Deaton was walking towards them. "Argent isn't really a dinner conversation with them."

"Why?" Allison wondered, furrowing her brows.

"Well, it's really up to them to tell you, it would be inappropriate for me to talk about such an emotional topic of their past." He grabbed some food, and starting digging in.

When they had created a fort of Jackson's manor, Deaton had found them, looking for a place to sleep in return for his doctoral skills. Granted he was just a vet, but it was the same basic stuff, plus he seemed to be great with medicines of every kind.

As soon as Stiles heard footsteps coming from the stairwell, his head snapped towards it. Derek was the first to come down. He was rubbing the back of his neck nervously, finding sudden interest in the floor.

"Uh... I wanted to apologize for my behavior... Chris," he said, looking up to the man.

"It's alright, but what was wrong?"

"Would it be alright if we talked in private?" Derek asked, his eyes shifting towards the group at the table and Chris.

"Sure," he said, before leading Derek down the hall. Laura, Cora, and Peter came down moments later, an apologetic look in their eyes.

"May we join you?" Cora asked.

"Yeah," Stiles said, hating that she felt she needed to ask. They continued to eat in silence. The food had gotten cold, but was still tolerable. Derek and Chris returned, both seeming relaxed. It looked as if a giant weight had been lifted from Derek's shoulders.

"Were going on another trip tomorrow to a Super Target a few miles north of here, any of you want to come?" Stiles asked. Cora, Laura, and Derek looked up with a 'are you talking to us' look on their faces.

"After what just happened?" Derek asked, meekly.

"That! That was nothing. You should've seen me after my mother...." Stiles trailed off, forgetting he was talking to near strangers. "Anyways, we've seen worse," he said instead, a hint of pain in his voice. "Excuse me," Stiles said, placing his napkin over his food. He walked up the stairs until he was out of sight then took the rest three at a time. He closed and locked his door in record time, flinging himself onto his bed. Stiles didn't know why the memory of his mom hurt so much, it never did before.

He screamed into his pillow, letting the tears roll out. It had been a while since Stiles let his emotions go like this, but he knew if he didn't, he'd had a breakdown of sorts and probably hurt someone. As much as he hated to admit it, he was vulnerable just like anyone else, even with his emotional security system up.

Stiles didn't realize he fell asleep till a knock came from the door. He rubbed his eyes open, noticing the itchiness in them and the wet stains on his pillow. Stiles shifted to the door, unlocking it and opening it a crack in one fluid motion. Derek looked through the crack.

"Are you alright?" Derek asked. He seemed genuinely concerned. "I heard you crying and then nothing. I wanted to make sure you were alright." Did Derek just imply he thought Stiles had committed suicide or self harmed himself?

Stiles forced a small smile to the corner of his lips and replied, "Yeah, I jus.... I just," Stiles tried to explain but when he thought of his mom, he could feel the tears coming forth. He stopped mid sentence, staring at the ground.

"May I come in?" Derek asked, his hands shoved into the pockets of his insanely tight jeans.

"Sure," Stiles said before shuffling back to the bed. He sat on the edge, rolling his knife in his hand. Derek sat down next to him. Stiles could feel Derek's gaze on him as he rolled the knife. After a few seconds, he placed the knife on his bedside table, fidgeting with his now shaky hands.

It took a moment or two before Stiles' whole body started shaking. Stiles felt Derek's hand slither across his back and grip his side, pulling him towards the werewolf. Stiles rested his head on Derek's shoulder, giving zero fucks about how this might look, and listened to Derek's soothing heartbeat.

The last thingStiles heard before he fell asleep again was Derek whispering the words 'it's alright'.

When Stiles woke, he palmed the sweat off his face. It took aphid a second before he remembered what had happened. Stiles felt a tightening in his chest at Derek not being with him, soothing him. His eyes went wide, remembering this emotion.

RULE # 1: Don't fall in love.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day the gang was getting ready to go out on a food run. Stiles, Derek, Erica, and Boyd. Erica and Boyd had been out on a little run of their own till this morning, which made Stiles wonder why they were wanting to go on another. The group would have to run into the city to get anything substantial. Stiles always made sure that when they gathered materials, it was enough to make sure they had enough to last them a long while. It had been a month and a half since their last month. Stiles packed his bat and a sword... he couldn't shoot for shit, but give him a weapon for up close combat and he could kick ass. Allison had been trying to teach him to shoot a crossbow, but it just wasn't working out. His dad even tried to convince him to try a gun, but that failed as well. Stiles still carried a gun around, more to reassure his father than anyone else, and if worst comes to worst, he's sure he could figure it out.

They were taking the jeep into town because they risk bringing a flimsy old car. The jeep was heavily insulated and the windows and windshield were military grade. It made it easy to ram zombies out of there way when they didn't have time to get out and do it themselves.

Derek brought a couple of knives and a gun, but Stiles was pretty sure he'd just use his claws if need be. Erica brought a shotgun and machine gun, her two favorite weapons since the apocalypse broke out. Boyd tended to veer towards knives and swords, or even a chainsaw. They loaded the jeep with their weapons and other materials to help them get into a shop or grocery store in the city. Before they left, Stiles dad pulled him n for a hug and whispered, "Be careful."

"I will," Stiles replied, giving his father a reassuring squeeze. When he turned towards the door, he saw Derek staring. As Stiles walked up to him, he asked, "What?"

"He seems to really care about you," Derek replied, giving a light smile.

"Yeah, were the only family we have left," Stiles said, the corners of his mouth turning up.

"If you don't mind my asking, where's your mother?" Derek asked, tilting his head, slightly.

Stiles didn't expect that. Inside he was screaming, wanting to cry at just the mention of her, but he couldn't get emotional before a run. "Later," was all Stiles said, before heading out the door, hoping Derek didn't catch the stutter in his heartbeat.

Stiles drove with Derek in the passenger seat and Erica, and Boyd in the back. He started the engine and started off towards the Beacon Hills Cities.

. o O 0 O o .

They arrived within a half hour, parking the jeep in an underground garage. They had spotted a mall just a half mile away, with many a stores in it, including a grocery store. The found their way in through the North entrance. The entrance they had gone through landed them in a clothes store.

Stiles turned to the group and said, "Remember, stay quiet and stay vigilant." They continued through the store, seemingly without a hitch, just as they were about to exit the store into the giant halls of the mall, something toppled over, causing a giant crashing noise to echo through the store. Stiles turned and found Erica standing over the fallen cart, looking guilty. Stiles gave her a what-the-hell-do-you-think-you're-doing look.

"There was a nice looking jacket," she replied. Then came the growls.

"Shit," Stiles whispered.

"Let's get out of here," Derek said, before Stiles could.

They booked it out of the clothes store, turning corners and sprinting up escalators. They ran past the food court and the mini amusement park. They finally stopped when they were out of breath, taking a breather in a little corner shop that seemed to be for leather and binding kinks.

"Oh my," Erica said, looking around the store.

"How... different. Never knew this was here," Boyd said, picking up a gag and inspecting it. Of course, everything was dusty from years of non-use.

"Did anyone happen to see the grocery store?" Stiles asked, looking around the store out of interest.

"I think I saw one just down the hall," Derek replied, picking up a whip, before placing it back where it was.

"Okay, let's go," Stiles said, heading to the store entrance.

They were in the grocery store within seconds. They split up, taking different aisles to get done quicker. Stiles took an aisle with chips and cookies and other delicacies. As Stiles took out a bag of chips of the shelf, it created a little gap to see into the other aisle. He paused as soon as he'd done it. Across the aisle was a zombie, just standing there and looking down its aisle. Stiles held his breath, but even that didn't help. It turned and spotted him. It opened its mouth and growled, loud. It ran at the shelves and hit it, knocking the products off onto the floor. It kept doing it, which made Stiles run down his aisle just as the shelf tumbled to the floor with the zombie on top of it. He watched as it got up and spotted him... and it ran.

Stiles gasped, but didn't run. You couldn't outrun a runner. They were fast, and were one of the most dangerous types of zombies. He pulled out his sword and readied himself. Just as it reach him, he swung. Had ducked out the way as it ran a few steps passed him and stopped. It shuddered then fell to the ground as it's head slid off its body at the neck. He sighed, but not for long. One after another, zombies found their way to the aisle Stiles was in. He ran down the aisles and found the rest of his group, gathering them up to get out of the store before any other trouble. Once they were in the hall, both sides were filled of zombies stumbling towards the. An escalator was straight ahead, so they bounded down it, and found themselves running into the amusement park. Stiles lead the group to the room that controlled the entire park and he turned it on.

"What's that going to do?" Erica asked, looking around nervously.

"It should distract them for a little while, with the sounds and not," Stiles replied, suddenly out of breath.

The group made their way through the amusement park towards the exit on the other side. Just as everything seemed to be going okay, a scream erupted from Erica. The group turned to find Erica running towards them from behind a ride while clutching her arm which was bleeding profusely. A horde of zombies was following her, clawing and gnashing their teeth at her. It struck Stiles like a truck on a freeway... she had been bitten, and bad. Boyd grabbed her bridal style and they all ran.

The zombies must've gotten smart because they were closing around the group from the back and sides as they drew nearer to the exit. "Shit, we have to split up!" Stiles yelled. But before they could discuss anything another horde of zombies appeared in front of them. Stiles and Boyd went to the right while Derek curved to the left. They ran down the strip and climbed an escalator within seconds. They found a two-story clothing store hid in the dressing rooms. Stiles was doubled over, trying to catch his breath, while Boyd set Erica down on the bench. She was still bleeding, her whole arm soaked with blood. She was paler than usual and her eyes were bloodshot.

"Go," she mumbled.

"What!" Boyd exclaimed.

"Go, now! I'm going to turn soon and you need to go. Leave me!" she replied.

"I-I can't, I love you," he said, tears coming to his face. He sag down next of her and pulled her into a tight embrace. He kissed her, probably the most passionately that Stiles had seen since this whole thing started. Tears rushed down her cheeks, streaking them pink. Before Boyd could stop her, she pulled out a pistols and shoved it onto her mouth, pulling the trigger. Luckily Stiles hadn't been in the way when she blew the back of her head out. Boyd cried out, clutching her limp body. Tears found their way to Stiles eyes, but he quickly wiped them away.

"Boyd, come on. Please, we have to go now. They're coming," Stiles said, placing a hand on Boyd's shoulder.

"No, let them come! I don't care anymore!" he said, holding her body closer to his body.

"I know it hurts. T-trust me, I do, but she wouldn't want this for you, and you know it," Stiles replied, squeezing his shoulders lightly. "Come on," he said before pulling Boyd to his feet. They made their way through the clothing store and into the mall.

"We have to try and find Derek," Stiles said, looking around nervously.

"He could be dead, you know," Boyd told him from behind.

"No! No, he's strong. He can't," Stiles said, hoping... praying that he was still alive. He heard Boyd chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing it's just... nothing," Boyd replied.

"What!?" Stiles asked again, a little more forceful.

"You seem to be falling for this guy... hard," Boyd said, chuckling again.

"What? No, I just feel obligated to protect him after we take them in."

"Nah, you're falling for him," Boyd repeated.

"But...," Stiles started, but stopped himself. Boyd forced him to realize something that he was denying. Something he wasn't allowing himself to feel.

They continued, without any complications till they found an outdoor sports store. "We might be able to find something in here," Boyd suggested. Stiles grunted in agreement. The searched the store and Boyd found a few more weapons to use but Stiles stuck to his weapons. As they exited the store, Stiles heard a grunt to his side and swung his bat, hitting a zombie right in the head. It dropped to the ground and shuddered for a moment before stilling. Stiles looked to where it came from to see a couple of runners coming towards them.

"Go!" Boyd said, shoving himself in front of Stiles.

"No, I can't," Stiles replied.

"You can't outrun them, and- and I want to be with her," he replied, forcing   
Stiles the other way.

"Thank you," was all he said before sprinting down the strip. He heard grunts and slashing, but it all went silent when he heard Boyd grunt.

Stiles forced the tears back as he continued on, not stopping till he found himself at the other end of the mall, sinking to a sitting position and gasping for breath. He let the tears come out, watching through bleary eyes how they dripped onto his knees. With all the energy he could muster, he lifted and yelled, "DEREK!"

He sat in silence as he heard the uproar of zombies around the mall come to life. More tears rushed down his face at this and he layed his head down in his lap. The zombies stopped after a blood-curdling roar filled the mall. Stiles lifted his head and looked around, wondering if he was just imagining this or if it actually happened. When the zombies continued to groan, he chalked it up to his imagination. Stiles wiped his eyes, and sniffled.

Stiles heard footsteps, quick and heavy, coming towards him, but he could see. He got up, preparing himself, not caring about what happened. He dropped his bat and sword, flinging them away. He took a deep breath, ready to accept the inevitable. He heard the footsteps drawing nearer, probably rounded the corner and was facing him. He waited for the attack, but what came instead was a hug, tight and warm and needed. Stiles opened his arm, seeing Derek there, hugging him.

"D-Derek," Stiles muttered.

"I thought you were dead," he replied, placing his hand on Stiles shoulders and taking a step back. Now that Stiles could see Derek, he saw that he was covered in blood, but he had no wounds. "Wait, where's Erica, and Boyd?" Derek asked.

Stiles swallowed what seemed to be a sock in his throat, but couldn't answer. Derek looked away at the realization of what had happened.

"We should get to the car, now!" Derek said, taking Stiles by his wrist. He lead Stiles towards the exit, and they found their way to the car without a hitch, which seemed to be a slap to the face. Derek drove this time, with Stiles in the passenger seat. He was curled up into a ball, and looking out the window.

How could he have let this happen, two of his friends dead. Stiles' mind was racing with questions and answers. How could he not follow his rules? His emotions caused almost three deaths and he was ready to die... was he ready to die? The questions and thoughts tired his mind, making him slip into unconsciousness where he could ridicule his actions even more.

When he woke, he found he was back in his bed, just like before. He knew that this time he had gotten there because Derek had carried him. He cared for him enough to not wake him up, but instead bring him to his bedroom. He shifted in the bed, throwing the sheets off of him because he was too hot, and sweating like a pig. He rubbed his forehead, his hair damp against his head. He removed his shirt and threw it across the room, more out of discuss because of the terrible memories laced within its cloth. He huffed out a breath then made his way to the bathroom, grime under his fingernails and dried zombie blood on his arms and neck.

He locked the bathroom behind him and stripped away his pants and boxers, turning on the water and stepping under the spray. He scrubbed himself till his skin was raw, washing away any grime that could've been left over. He left his dirty clothing in the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. On the way back to his room, he bumped into Derek, which he'd mistaken for a brick wall.

"Uh, hey," Stiles said, "did you carry me to my room?"

"Yeah, I didn't want to wake you," Derek replied, giving a light smile.

"Thanks, I-I really appreciate it," Stiles said, rubbing the back of his neck. He noticed Derek eyeing him up and down, and suddenly grew very self conscious. A pink blush spread from the tips of his ears to his chest. "I should, uh..."

"Yeah," Derek said, stepping aside. Stiles hurried into his room and closed the door behind him, letting out a breath before picking out some clothes to wear. He decided on a grey shirt with a red hoodie and grey skinny jeans. As soon as he got out of his room, he was hit with what seemed like a thousand smells at once, which alerted him that Melissa was cooking. As he entered the kitchen, he was taken aback. Derek was cooking with Melissa as his handy man chef. Cora and Laura were playing a game at the kitchen table, so he decided to join them. He grabbed a water bottle and sat down across from them, looking in on the game: blackjack. It seemed Laura won before they turned their attention towards Stiles.

"You alright?" Laura asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. I'm just trying not to think about..." he started.

"So do you like my brother?" Cora blurted out, obviously not caring. Laura looked embarrassed by her sisters straight forward-ness.

"I, uh-I don't, uh," Stiles blurted, tripping over his words because he didn't know how to respond.

Cora and Laura gasped, "You do!" Cora said, her eyes bright and smile wide. Stiles looked behind himself and was glad to find that Derek wasn't there.

"I. Do. Not."

"Oh, yes you do. I recognize the look you give him, plus your heart is your loudest tell," Cora said. Stiles look to Laura but it was no use because she was smiling, and obviously enjoying this.

"I don't... I can't," Stiles mumbled before getting up hastily, and going up the stairs. As he got to the bottom and up the first few steps, he found Derek standing in the hall, listening. Stiles stopped abruptly, "How much did you hear?" Stiles asked.

"Enough," Derek replied, smiling. A blush spread over Stiles' face.

He rushed passed Derek and into his room, almost slamming the door behind him. He sank into his bed and wished the earth could just swallow him up. He didn't know if Derek's smile was showing that he though Stiles' crush was cute, of that he liked him in return. But Stiles was embarrassed enough as it was, he didn't want to stick around any longer.

Stiles woke to a knock at his door. He shuffled to the door slowly, and opened it a crack and found Derek. "What?" Stiles mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"I wanted to see how you were doing and dinners ready," he replied, giving a concerned smile.

"I'm fine, and not really hungry, but thank you," Stiles said, trying to not look embarrassed.

"Can I come in?"

Stiles thought for a moment before nodding and leaving the door for his bed. Derek followed him in and closed the door. Stiles sat against the headboard of the bed, looking at the walls, at his sheets, of his feet... anywhere bug Derek's face.

"Hey," Derek said, making Stiles look up, "It's alright, you know."

"I don't know what you mean," Stiles replied, playing dumb. Derek gave him a you-know-exactly-what-I-mean face. Stiles looked at his hands, of which he was fumbling with as a distraction.

"Stiles, do you like me?" Derek asked, sitting halfway down the bed, forcing Stiles to look at him.

"I don't... um," Stiles tripped over his words like his was a teenage girl talking to her crush.

"You can tell me," Derek said, his voice deep and reassuring, and warm.

"Yes," he blurted, wanting the awkward moment to be over with. He closed his eyes not wanting to see Derek's reaction, good or bad.

He felt Derek grab his chin gingerly, and lift his head. He opened his eyes, seeing Derek in front of him.

"And I, you," he said, before leaning in to kiss Stiles. At first the kiss was rough and all surprise, but after a second or so, Stiles got comfortable, and went as far as to dive his tongue into Derek's mouth, playing with Derek's tongue. They only pulled back when another knock came at the door.

"What?!" Stiles yelled, slightly irritated.

"Dinners ready," Lydia replied in a sing song voice.

"I'm not hung..." Stiles started before Derek cut him off.

"If I got you some food and ate up here with you, would you be hungry?"

"I, yes," he replied, smiling. He watched Derek as he left, or more so his ass, and how his jeans made it look perfect.

Stiles knew he was breaking what he told himself not to do. He promised himself not to fall in love, not to because you'd just end up hurt. In this terrible world, nothing ends happily, but Stiles felt he deserved happiness after so much hurt and pain.

His thoughts dispersed when Derek came back in the room with two trays. He gave Stiles the tray with more food and they sat on the bed, eating their dinners: orange chicken with rice, and vegetables.

"Did you make this?" Stiles asked through a mouthful of food.

"Yeah, before my family died, I was going to college to become a chef," Derek replied, then looked up as if to see how Stiles reacted. Stiles didn't so much react as wonder.

"What happened?"

"Long story," Derek said.

"We've got all night," Stiles said, putting his fork down and placing his hands in his lap. "If you don't mind that it."

"Um, well, I dated this woman, Kate Argent, not long before the apocalypse started. It seemed like things were going well, but after a while she got... hostile. She was less loving and more demanding. She wanted to have sex whenever we had alone time and didn't actually want to talk or, you know, spend time together," Derek said, placing a piece of broccoli. "Anyways, after a long conversation with my family about what was going on, they convinced me to break up with her, and I did. She was mad, of course, and broke a bunch of shit, and then just left. Without a word."

He gave Stiles a moment to take this in before continuing.

"About two weeks later, when Cora, Laura, Peter and I were out to see a movie, I just sensed something was wrong. We left and came back go a completely quiet house. With my family that isn't normal since we had several children in the family. One look inside and we saw that our family was turned into zombies. We thought that being werewolves we would be immune, but I guess not. We didn't know what else to do but burn it down to keep it from spreading, because we didn't know what a zombie werewolf could do. We found out that Kste had killed them, showing no mercy, not even for the children," Derek paused, taking in a huge breath, a tear rolling down his face. Stiles moved the trays off the bed and layed Derek down, placing Derek's head on his chest.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Stiles said, running his hand through Derek's hair.

"It's alright. I wouldn't have told you if I didn't want to." This made Stiles heart stutter. He didn't have anyone that cared about him like that.

"My mom, she was like my best friend, died from the zombie attack. I was so close to reaching her, but the zombies got to her first. I managed to kill them, but of was too late. She was bitten. She died in my arms, but I shot her, not wanting her to be taken by the disease. My dad found us later and then we joined with the rest of the group. It wrecked me. I was basically dead inside for a month or so. The thing that snapped me out of it was the fact that I was needed to help against a zombie attack. I decided not to show, or feel really, because of didn't want to get hurt again." Stiles confessed speedily, as if he had been holding it in for years. Derek looked up at him, his eyes red from crying. Stiles felt a tear roll down his cheek, and Derek caught it on his finger and wiped   
Stiles cheek. Stiles gave him a light smile.

Stiles didn't know when they fell asleep, but felt better when he woke. The sun was poking through the blinds, and he found that Derek's and his limbs were tangled. The sheets were on the floor, but Stiles was warm from Derek's enveloping body heat. He placed a kiss on top of Derek's head before carefully untangling himself from Derek.

He relieved himself in the bathroom, and when he came back, he saw Derek laying in bed with his eyes open. He had his shirt off and motioned for Stiles to join him. Stiles joined him and in that moment, he was carefree. He felt he could do anything, but he knew it wouldn't last long.

RULE # 2: Protect the ones you love.

 

 


End file.
